Friday, May 1, 2009

Hacksaw is Wrestling at My House.

So I am moving to Brooklyn tomorrow afternoon. I have a job and I have no more time to play grabass on the internet with wrestling fruits. I don't know how often I wil be posting here from here on out, but this is my last hurrah, if you weel.

It turns out Hacksaw Jim Duggan was literally wrestling around the corner on my last night in this bullshit town, so I decided to go alone, because it was better than...being alone...I guess.

I have hangups with life, so I don't like going to public social events alone as I feel everyone is staring at me and making fun of me for being a lonely man. Don't get me wrong, I'm not socially retarded or anything, but being alone in these types of situations BUGS ME OUT. I warmed up earlier in the day by going to a Japanese restaurant all alone and ordering a perfectly cooked Chicken Katsu plate. After that, I had enough confidence to attend a scrubby wrestling event by myself.

The wrestling league or whatever was called POWER & GLORY WRESTLING. I guess they run locally in CT and they have their own little thing going on. I showed up fashionably late, because that's how you do things. Unfortunately, it wasn't late enough as I sat there for a half hour waiting. I also expected like 50 people to be there but the place was fucking PACKED. I don't know how many people, but definitely more people than will be at the next 5 IWA-MS shows combined. It was the most people I have seen at scrub wrestling in my life.

SO I am sitting there, and starting to freak a little because I am alone in a room with 400 white trash. Given the town I'm in, I fully expected the audience to be blacks and puertoricans, which I can handle, but that much white trash gives me the panics. Oh, i was also DUMB high, which wasn't helping. Then, these three dudes sit next to me. They were all very chunky. I will go over their outfits:

Oh, and they were all wearing glasses. I would later find out that these dudes were INSIDERZ, but more on that later. At this point, I regret going to such a white trash function and I get the panics, but I calm myself down so it's all good.

The first thing was like Raw, where the main heel team comes out, which are a bunch of dudes who are like DX, and the leader looks like John Morrison. One of the guys is doing a fat gay aerobics gimmick and his name is Richard Seaman's. He's the best dude.

SO then after a bunch of yammering motherfucking RON ZOMBIE comes to clean house and the crowd goes APESHIT. Ron Zombie is a dude who has been on every single local wrestling card since I was in high school. He looks like if Cactus Jack was into Rob Zombie. he crowd is going APESHIT because he's southern CT's real life RANDY THE RAM except Ron has never been famous anywhere but southern CT.

Oh, so I forgot to mention MOTHERFUCKING OX BAKER was there. Not wrestling obviously, he's like 150 years old. he was just selling shit. He has this crazy loud booming voice and he was just kind of blabbing away doing crazy old man talk to no one in particular, but then he starts DISRESPECTING THE BIZ during the matches! During this Ron Zombie bullshit, Ox Baker legit tries to start a BORING chant, and I'm like FUCK YEAH OX BAKER! but I don't say that out loud because that wold be weird, so I just think it real hard.

Meanwhile, I find out these fat dorks next to me are INSIDERS because they start talking about "bumps" and "workers" and "stiff shots" and I start to puke a little. At least they didn't smell bad. I really wanted to turn to them and say, "Excuse me, do you know who the fuck I am? I am Contributor IV from the internet's most popular wrestling blog www.6394blog.com, Why don't you show some respect", but I didn't do that because that would have been queer.

Ok so that match was over. whatever, you guys don't care. Then the ring announcer comes in and he's like "there are refreshments in the back and also wrestling legend OX BAKER is in back signing autographs" and some older puertorican dude a couple rows in front of me stands up, turns around and points to Ox and screams OX BAKER BABY!! and I'm like FUCK YEAH OLD PUERTORICAN GUY YOU RULE, but again I don't say that out loud.

So then during another match the insiders are still blabbing about bumps and ROH and GABE and i'm puking, and then Ox Baker starts yelling at the referee for counting too slow and I start to wonder if Ox Baker is drunk, and how I could use a beer too, which is when I find out there are no beers at this event which becomes a nagging concern since I would have easily bought ten beers.

Ok, then at some other point, the ring announcer makes an announcement saying there is a special guest in the audience, as if like, Lawrence Taylor or Kirk Cameron is there, but it's just some local magician guy and Ox Baker yells WHO GIVES A SHIT at him, and I lose it again.

SO another match I will highlight: Some black guy comes out, sorry, I don't know his name, but he was supposed to be the bad guy, but his little mixed color children were in the audience in front of me holding up a sign for him and it was so touching. I cried a little. Then the next guy out was another black guy names THE PARK CITY GANGSTA, and THE PARK CITY is my old hood where I grew up and shit, so I was torn as to who to root for. The touching family man or the dude who was representing the B.P.T. It doesn't matter because the insiders started critiquing these dudes outfits and it was HILARIOUS. All wondering how much they spent on their ring gear. Oh, and then the dude in the basketball jersey started thinking out loud about what kind of promos he would cut in the ring which became a recurring theme during every match. THEN all of these dudes started talking about playing D&D, and I LOST MY SHIT. Like, I had to put my face in my hand because I couldn't keep it cool AT ALL.

So there were some matches, blah blah, and then an intermission so I go to buy an Ox Baker T Shirt because the dude is so awesome, and he was so fucking PUMPED someone was buying his T shirt because no one else gave a shit about him. Right after that he bounced though so I knew I wasn't gonna be getting more drunken commentary. Oh, I think he called a girl a bitch too! He might have said midget though! It was hard to decipher through the moustache.

So after the intermission the dork gang comes back and one of them now smells like cheap bathroom soap and bad breath, and I don't know how much more I can take with no beer being sold. THEN they start talking about some guy, and one of them says that Dave Prazak is a metrosexual, which was baffling. Dave Prazak looks like a lot of things, but metrosexual is not one of those things EVER. They were also saying how all of the wrestlers girlfriends were fat but these dudes mos. def. never saw a real vagina EVER.

Ok time for the MAIN EVENT. Hacksaw vs. the fakeDX dude. For some reaosn I forgot Hacksaw's gimmick was being a lumbering retard. He started like 40000 USA chants. He was also wearing old school swim trunks as ring gear. No joke. So I guess it was the best match a 60 year old man can have with some scrub you never heard of.

All in all, I enjoyed myself. I wish there was beer. I don't know if I'm going to be able to handle going to ROHby myself in June though (that was a plan of mine). Thanks for reading. Die slow, bloodsuckers.

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6-3-94 Manifesto

In the days of ancient Rome men tried to best each other physically by imposing their will on one other. Sometimes this lead to the death of one of the competitors. Sometimes it lead to a friendship or brotherhood bond being formed. More often than not it ended with the two dudes fucking the shit out of each other. Faggotry and wrestling have long had a mutually parasitic relationship. Where faggotry is afoot wrestling cannot be far behind. Where there is wrestling you can rest assured that faggotry is nearby, jerking off furiously. This is the way it has always been and the way it shall always be. Though men have tried to change this dynamic throughout the ages they have all failed. Spandex, pyrotechnics, midgets, fake tits and sports entertainment cannot mask the overwhelming scent of gay that always accompanies wrestling. You can always be certain of these three things: The sun always rises in the morning, politicians always lie and wrestling will always be gay as fuck. We are merely observers; scribes charged with the duty of recording, analyzing and mocking this faggotry. These are our words.